


Do you see. Now?

by one_elderflower_cordial_please



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Also there's bullying, F/M, I"m awful at posting regularly so...be patient, but still kind of important to the story, i don't know how to tag, not major, so if you're sensitive about that PLEASE be careful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-08-23 14:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16620554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_elderflower_cordial_please/pseuds/one_elderflower_cordial_please
Summary: Anne was so happy. It was a crisp, January morning, and she had set off early to get some extra work in before class started. The cold air made her cheeks and nose go as pink as the bow carefully keeping all her long, red hair out of her freckled face. And there, sitting primly on her nose, was the cause of all this happiness. A pair of glasses ...Or: There's no explanation for this ... I just really really wanted to see Gilbert in glasses





	1. Frames

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to Lucy Maud Montgomery and Moira Walley-Beckett.  
> I'm just borrowing them for the evening ;)
> 
> This story has a bit of bullying right at the beginning. If you are sensitive to that stuff, please be careful while reading it!
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy <3

_-Anne-_

 

Anne was so happy. It was a crisp, January morning, and she had set off early to get some extra work in before class started. She had baked cherry tarts over the weekend, they were wrapped up carefully in her basket, all ready to be shared with the girls at school. The cold air made her cheeks and nose go as pink as the bow carefully keeping all her long, red hair out of her freckled face. And there, sitting primly on her nose, was the cause of all this happiness. A pair of glasses. They were round, with thin silver frames and clear glass lenses that she had shined to perfection. And they were huge. Covering almost all of her face. But this was exactly why she liked them. These glasses offered a barrier. A wall. Even though it was silly, she felt like she could see out, but people couldn’t see in. Plus, they hid a majority of her freckles. 

Anne had, over time, come to accept herself as she was, mostly. But not the freckles. The freckles, she still despised, despised, despised.

Anne thought about this as she walked along, occasionally turning to smile at a small bird or a particularly beautiful tree. Soon, without realising it, she was at the school house. And that was where the trouble started.

Behind her, the sound of shoes, several shoes, running up the path she had just walked down.

“Hey!”

The call was harsh, and Anne flinched. She turned around.

Billy Andrews was standing there, flanked by two other boys. One was tall, with a long nose, the other was short, with a chubby one. As soon as Anne turned around, Billy began to laugh out loud.

“What is _that_ on your face?”

Anne felt herself flush.

“They’re my new … my new glasses.”

Billy and his friends laughed. Or cackled.

Tears were welling up in the corners of Annes eyes. Did she really think she’d look prettier if she wore them? Did she really think anyone would like it?

“Where did you steal them from?”

“What?” She was shocked.

“You heard me. Where. Did. You. Steal them from?”

“I didn’t steal them from anybody! I was given them for Christmas.”

“Ha.”

“It’s _true_.” A shriek, not exactly loud, but powerful.

Billy cocked his head. “I just didn’t realise dogs could wear glasses.”

A pause.

Anne. “I didn’t realise rats could talk.”

She had no idea why she said it.

It was barely a whisper, but Billy caught the end of it. He narrowed his eyes. Annes heart was beating a mile a minute, she could feel the blood pumping through her head, like a steady drum beat.

The boy to Billys right, the tall one, took a step forward.

“What did you say?”

Anne took a step back, and bumped into the school house door. She wanted Miss Stacey to come out of that door so badly. But it stayed firmly shut, the thin layer of frost melting and soaking the back of her coat. She looked up, and saw that the mistletoe was still hanging above the door.

For some reason, that gave her a teaspoon of courage.

“I said, I didn’t realise rats,” she stared at each one of them, “could talk.”

Instant regret.

There was a yowl from the tall boy, and he charged towards Anne, but, to her great surprise, he never reached her. Billy had grabbed him around the waist and hauled him backwards, almost pulling them both over.

“Don’t be stupid! You can’t hit a girl, even one like _her_.” He shot Anne a nasty look, and Anne was almost impressed. Almost.

She was so engrossed in watching the tall boy. She didn’t even see the short one. He came up by her side and grabbed the glasses, grabbed her precious, beautiful glasses, and ran.

“Hey!!”

Billy and the tall boy, after realising what the other boy had done, whooped and ran after him, calling out.

“Good job, Jimmy!”

“Yes, Jim!”

They disappeared into the woods.

 

The door behind her opened, of course, just when it was too late, and she almost fell backwards into Miss Stacey. Glorious Miss Stacey, in her cream shirt and brown trousers with a pencil stuck behind her ear.

“Anne?”

And Anne was so scared, and so _relieved_ , that she laid her head on Miss Staceys shoulder, and cried and cried and cried.


	2. Hinges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert's mad. Bash just wants to get out of the damn cold. Billy's an idiot. (Though no surprise there.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These characters belong to Lucy Maud Montgomery and Moira Walley-Beckett.  
> I'm just borrowing them for the evening ;)

_\- Gilbert -_

Gilbert had just finished his breakfast. He waved goodbye to Mary, who was bringing in wood for the fireplace, nodded at Bash, who has cleaning ice from the stoop. And stepped out into the quiet path.

This was why he woke up early.

This.

The quiet.

The trees.

The fiery afterglow of the recent sunrise.

This, this, this.

He loved to walk slowly. Loved to tread lightly, so his boots didn’t scare any sleepy creatures. Loved to just, walk. And not be in a rush. Not be worried about getting here or getting there. Just walking, vaguely, towards school, knowing he had plenty of time. Knowing that if he stopped to look at something interesting, a leaf, or a flower, or a patch of shiny frost, that he would still be early.

That he would still be okay.

And this time, he did stop. He was sitting, sketching a flower that he had never seen before, documenting the exact curve of its blue petals, when he heard something.

Voices.

Coming from somewhere up ahead. Three of them.

This annoyed him. They were breaking his moment of peace.

He got up, slightly grumpy, and walked over to where the voices were.

Quietly.

And saw Billy, first.

Then Jim.

Then Andrew.

They were standing around something, and high-fiving each other, shaking hands as if they were bosses of big companies and had just made the biggest deal of their lives.

“We showed her. She’s never going to dare call us that again.”

“Serves her right for thinking she can mess with us.”

“That’ll teach her.”

“Come on, we better get to school before Miss Stacey tells us off … maybe she’d make us wear dresses as a punishment!”

Their laughter echoed off the trees, as they trudged off along the path that lead to the school house.

Gilbert stayed very still for a few minutes, making doubly sure that the boys had gone, then walked out into the small clearing. At first, he didn’t see anything unusual. Just a few dead leaves, and some patches of frost.

Then something caught his eye. Something sparkly. He crouched down to take a closer look, and picked up what looked like a pair of glasses. They had big, round silver frames, but they were bent slightly. The lenses had been broken, and Gilbert almost cut himself on a corner of sharp glass.

Anger bubbled up inside him.

He knew these glasses like the back of his hand.

He had spent ages saving up for them, buying the glass, bargaining for the frames.

Bash had helped him put them together.

And he had wrapped them up carefully in a pale blue handkerchief, walked all the way up to Green Gables two days before Christmas … and chickened out.

He was going to give them to Anne personally, but he just couldn’t. So he handed them to Marilla,

“But don’t tell her they’re from me!”

She had raised an eyebrow at this.

“Please.”

“Mmm. Okay.”

She gave a soft smile, and promised him she would give them to Anne on Christmas Day. Then invited Gilbert in for tea.

And he knew exactly why they were sitting here, broken.

He always thought Billy was a bit of an idiot, but he never realised that he would do this.

Without realising, Gilbert had started walking, and now found himself standing at his own front door again. He could hear Bash whistling a short, repetitive tune as he cleaned the back path that led into the small garden at the rear of the house.

Gilbert made up his mind.

He wasn’t going to school today. He had already read through all the books Miss Stacey had given him, and had a good grasp of all the topics. It wouldn’t matter if he missed one day.

It was stupid, but when Gilbert made up his mind to do something, he stuck to it.

“Bash?”

The whistling stopped, and Bash’s head appeared round the side of the house.

“Back so soon, Blythe?” He chuckled.

“Yeah. I need your help with something.”

“If this is about Anne—“

“It’s not!” He thought for a second. “I mean, it sort of is. But not like that. It’s just, I’m not really sure—“

“Spit it out, lad.”

Gilbert swallowed and held up the broken glasses. Bash squinted, and stepped closer, his boots crunching on the frost.

“Is that …”

“The glasses you helped me make.”

“Why are they broken?”

The boy took a deep breath. “Billy. I think he stole them from Anne. She must have been wearing them while she was walking to school.”

The thought cheered him up a little. At least she liked them!

Bash shook his head. “That boy’s nothing but trouble.”

“I know, but that’s not important right now, I’ll deal with him later—“

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You shouldn’t.” Gilbert grimaced.

“But right now the most important thing to do is fix the glasses. Bash … do you think you could help me?”

Bash seemed to consider, before grinning and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Anything to get out of this cold. Come on then.”

And with that, Bash opened the front door and stepped through, Gilbert a few steps behind, his dark red scarf whipping round the doorframe and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for reading! <3 uwu
> 
> Next chapter might take a while ... but I'll get it done as soon as possible, don't worry! Thanks so much for dealing with my awful updating "schedule." @u@


	3. Eyepieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Miss Stacey have a good old natter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how late this is ... life threw a load of glasses (no pun intended) at me and several got smashed, so I've been spending a lot of time picking up the pieces ... oh well. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

_-Anne-_

 

Miss Stacey pulled Anne into the classroom and sat her down at one of the desks, then rushed off to get her a blanket from the store cupboard. Several minutes later, Anne found herself smothered in blankets, sitting by the wood stove and sipping some tea from a flask that Miss Stacey had pulled out of her bag. She had stopped crying, and was thoroughly warm and comfortable. Miss Stacey, after making sure that the blankets were wrapped securely around her, plopped down on the patch of floor next to Anne.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm.”

Miss Stacey seemed to be considering something, then said:

“What happened?”

She said it quietly, gently, softly.

Anne took a few minutes to reply, but Miss Stacey waited patiently.

“One of the boys took my glasses.”

“Your glasses?” Miss Stacey tilted her head quizzically.

“My glasses.”

“But … you don’t wear glasses?”

It was a question, the tail end raised slightly.

“Well, they’re not proper glasses, see. They’re more like … a wall? Or a barrier. A way to hide myself.”

“Oh?”

Anne hadn’t shared this piece of information with anybody, but there was something about Miss Stacey that made her want to tell the older lady everything.

So she did.

She spilled out her soul onto the worn wooden floors, telling her about everything from what her life was like at the orphanage to her first arrival at Green Gables to the other school children. It felt like something had been released inside her, and she just kept going and going until, remarkably, she found herself talking about Gilbert.

“And I just don’t understand it, Miss Stacey. Why does he keep staring at me? He must be making fun of me, at least that’s what I believe, but he never says anything or does anything, not like some of the other boys, so I really don’t know what to make of—“

She was broken off by a snort from the other lady.

“Miss Stacey?”

Miss Stacey shook her head, her hand pressed onto her mouth, her eyes bulging slightly, before she burst into peals of laughter.

“Miss Stacey! Don’t laugh at me!”

But Anne, who had been laughed at a lot in her lifetime, recognised that this was not the mean, sharp laughter of the girls at the orphanage. Nor was it the strange, forced laughter of the boys at school, when they crowded around Diana and asked her all kinds of questions, pushing Anne out of the way. This was the tinkling fairy laugh of friendship, and it healed Annes heart instantly.

“I’m— aha, I’m sorry Anne, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just…”

“Laughing at me.” Anne said, with a soft smile.

“Well, you can be very funny sometimes. Tell me more about Gilbert.”

Anne thought for a few moments.

“He makes me feel strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Like…”

Anne tried to put the feeling into words.

“Like this. Warm. And kind of tingly, like I’m in a beautiful, flowing dress with big sleeves and the wind is catching the fabric and it’s dancing across my skin … but I’m also very aware of … me.”

Miss Stacey smiled knowingly.

“I know.”

“You do?” Anne sounded surprised, and the older lady laughed a little.

“I do. I felt like that once, too.”

“Oh. Why?”

Miss Stacey thought for a moment.

“I’m not sure. People feel like this, feel the exact same way you're feeling right now, and it makes them happy and giddy and sometimes a little crazy, but no-one can explain _why_ … why me? Why him? Why her? Why them?”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the creaks of the school house and the cracks of the oven as it ate through its supply of wood.

“Miss Stacey?”

“Yes, Anne?”

“Who made you feel like that?”

Miss Stacey stayed quiet for so long, Anne feared that she had insulted her somehow. But, just before she was about to stutter out an apology, Miss Stacey whispered:

“Two beautiful people. One was … “ She swallowed thickly. “a girl. In my class, when I was still at school and only a little older than you are now. She had the most gorgeous golden hair and big wide eyes … she was my best, and only, friend.”

Miss Staceys eyes were misted, and she was looking at the small schoolhouse door, but not fully seeing it, lost in a memory.

“…And the second one?”

Miss Stacey shook her head a little, pulling herself out of her reverie, and smiled sadly.

“The second was a boy. We met in college, and he didn’t care that I wore trousers. He didn’t care that I had a fiery temper. He didn’t care that I was doing something that was ‘not socially acceptable.’ He loved me anyway.”

Anne gasped quietly.

“He sounds _wonderful.”_

The older lady smiled again, but this time, it was a happy smile.

“He was.”

The silence stretched out in front of them, both women content to just sit in their own thoughts.

“I wish I could find someone like that.” Anne said, wistfully staring out at the icy leaves dangling down outside the smoggy window.

Miss Stacey smiled down at Anne, lovely, oblivious Anne, and said,

“I think you already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I started to think of Miss Stacey as a pansexual queen, but here we are!  
> Hope you enjoyed this little heart to heart ... I'll try and get the next chapter up soon :)  
> ( Think Gilbert and Bash and a load of smashed glass ... fun times!)


	4. Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary is such a sweetheart?? uwu  
> Also consistent writing style who? Keeping to the right dialogue style for this era pffft why would I do something like that?

 

_\- Gilbert -_

 

Gilbert was bleeding.

He stooped over his spliced up hand and groaned. Things had not gone at all according to plan.

First, Bash had discovered that they did not, in fact, have any glue in the house, and had gone out to get some from the carpenters shop. Gilbert had then proceeded to pick up the broken glasses and, like an idiot, had _dropped_ them, and cut his hand viciously on one of the stray shards of glass. Meanwhile, Bash had returned home and was running around in circles flapping his hands about trying to find a towel or _something_ , _anything_ that could stop the bleeding.

It was at that moment, just when Bash shouted “AHA!” and leaped for an old dishcloth he had been using to clean the soot out of the fireplace (it was disgusting), Mary, Gilbert’s Lord and Saviour, walked in through the front door lugging a bundle of wood.

She took one look at Gilbert and immediately dropped the wood she was carrying. She ran straight past Bash and pulled off her shawl, crouched down in front of the now kneeling Gilbert, and held it out.

“Give me your hand.”

Gilbert did as he was told. At least _she_ seemed to know what to do.

“This might sting a little.”

She wrapped his hand in the soft, warm shawl and tied it in a knot around his wrist.

“There. That should hopefully stop the bleeding, then we can clean it up afterwards. Now, get up and put your arm around my waist … yes that’s it … we’re going to walk over to that chair and I’m going to sit you down … there we go. Now,”

There was a deafening shriek as she pulled another chair over and sat in front of him.

“Why on earth didn’t you wrap it up yourself?”

Gilbert mumbled something incomprehensible.

“Pardon?”

“I was panicking.”

Mary’s eyes softened as she surveyed the boy, head down, hunched protectively over his hand.

“Well, Bash should have known what to do anyway. What was he thinking, letting you play around with broken bits of glass!”

“It wasn’t his fault, I—I sort of forced him into it.”

Mary let out a short, single syllable laugh and glared over at the door that Bash had disappeared through.

“What were you doing?”

Gilbert debated whether to lie, but decided against it. Mary could spot a liar immediately, and he had heard many a dark tale from Bash about ‘the time Mary realised I hadn’t actually washed up the cutlery like I said I had’, always told in a hushed voice on dark winter nights. No, lying would never work. He would have to swallow his embarrassment and pride, and tell her.

“I’m … making something.”

The older lady stood up and placed a pot full of water above the fire, opening and shutting cupboard doors, searching for some tea.

“Sorry, I’m freezing. Carry on.”

The boy found it a lot easier to speak when Mary wasn’t sitting right across from him. “I’m making glasses. I got the glass from the pawn shop, Bash helped me cut it and the optician gave me the frames as payment for all the cleaning I’d been doing there for the past couple of weeks—“

“So that’s where you’ve been going!” She turned towards him, waving a cup around and scooping up some hot water. “I always wondered why you’ve been arriving home from school so much later than usual, just thought you were doing extra work or something.”

Gilbert was strangely touched that she had noticed his absence. It was almost like…

She put some tea leaves and cold milk into the cup, bringing it over to where Gilbert was sitting and placing it on the table by his elbow.

“Thanks. And … yeah. That’s about it, really.”

Mary walked over and plopped herself into a chair, stretching her arms out so they popped, and picked up her own cup of tea.

“Is it?”

She took a sip, peering over the rim at Gilbert.

“Yeah?”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling a blush creeping over his cheeks. Maybe she wouldn’t notice, she must have been pretty tired from lugging all that firewood around, maybe she would—

“Gilbert Blythe!”

_Dammit_.

Mary burst into laughter at his look of obvious panic, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow, sloshing tea all over the wooden floor. Bash poked his head around the doorframe and peered at Gilbert, raising one eyebrow questioningly. Gilbert did his best to say ‘please save me I am about to have one of the most embarrassing conversations of my _entire_ life, _please,_ ’ in a look, but bash didn’t seem to understand, or maybe he did, because he disappeared again with a very annoying, knowing smile on his face.

“Who are you making them for?”

“Um … “

_Oh dear oh dear oh dear._

“Can I make a wild guess?”

_Oh no oh god please don’t._

“I’m guessing it’s …”

_Hello death nice to see you I’ll be with you in just a moment._

“Anne!”

Gilbert could feel his whole face burning up like a star. Best to get it over with quickly.

“Yeah.”

“I knew it!” Mary looked much too pleased with herself for Gilbert’s liking.

“That’s so sweet. Christmas present?”

“Yeah.”

Mary smiled, then frowned as she glanced back over at them.

“How come they’re all broken?”

“Um, I think Billy stole them from Anne when she was on her way to school.”

Mary tutted, reaching over to pick up her cup from where she’d placed it on the table.

“That boy is—“

“Yeah, I know. I’ll deal with him.”

Mary’s face was twisted up in a strange way, almost like she wanted to say something but was restraining herself with difficulty. Gilbert noticed, blushed even more (he was practically glowing at this point) and said at top speed:

“Thankyou-so-much-for-helping-me-out-Mary-you-should-probably-get-some-rest-now-I’m-just-going-to-go-and-finish-fixing-the-glasses-with-Bash-okay-bye!” And dashed over to the table, scooping up the glasses and making a beeline for the door. He almost ran straight into Bash, who was leaning against the wall, wheezing silently into his jumper. Gilbert, despite being thoroughly embarrassed, found that he was smiling widely.

“Sorry, aha, sorry Blythe. Do you still want some help with the glasses?”

“Please.”

With a last wheezing chuckle, Bash sat down at the large kitchen table.

“Right. Wait, let me go find the glue.”

“Be careful with Mary. She didn’t sound very happy with you before.” Gilbert chuckled.

Bash grimaced. “Wish me luck.”

He got up and speed walked passed Gilbert into the main room, head bowed down as if he were hoping she wouldn’t spot him.

He almost, _almost_ made it, hand on the doorframe, nose appearing, when—

“Bash! You’re definitely not getting away that easily.”

The young boy grinned at Bash’s fleeting look of panic, a rabbit caught in headlights. Gilbert turned back to the table where the glasses lay, and gently tried to piece them back together like a jigsaw, a soft, happy smile on his face. Outside the frosted glass windows, it began to snow…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hey! Long time no update, ahahaha I'm so sorry *hides*  
> If you're still here then I love you, you are amazing, and I definitely don't deserve you *hugs*. Here, have a free mince pie  
> Hope everyone has a good holiday! Stay warm lovelies 💕✨

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3
> 
> Please be patient in regards to updates ... they will be random, sometimes I'll be spamming your inbox, sometimes you won't hear from me for a few weeks, it all depends on how life's treating me. (Though, some lovely messages in my Tumblr inbox will probably speed me up, *wink wink.*) And don't worry, the cute shirberty goodness will appear soon!
> 
> The title is from a book called The Book of Mistakes. The full line reads: "Do you see? How she is becoming? Do you see. Now?"  
> It reminded me of Anne.
> 
> Thanks for reading all the way through! You're the best <3  
> If you want to, kudos and comments are always appreciated.  
> If you liked it, tell your friends! If you didn't like it ... tell your friends!
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr @freckles-and-moonlight, send a message if you want, etc etc
> 
> Have a lovely day! And if you're reading this at 3 in the morning ... this is the sign you've been waiting for. Get some beauty sleep <3


End file.
